The girl to the right is a reflection in the mirror of the girl to the left.

It's said that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. It's also said that you can never really see a true reflection of yourself until you see how other people seem to see you, that people are the mirror to reflect your heart or soul in the same way a physical mirror that simply bounces light lets you see what you look like on the surface. What happens if what you see in either mirror isn't nearly as ugly or repulsive as you've been led to believe?

Like another image or two I've done, this girl isn't Eli, Abby or Elysse (I was playing with more knobs and buttons with some random model). If Eli or Abby is the abyss into which we gaze, then all the different Elis and Abbys and fanfic knockoffs that've popped up in the fiction and art sections are the distorted and speckled reflections Eli would see in the abysses of our eyes - and, I fear, how she might see us if she could rise above her two-dimensional world of paper and ink or take physical form from the patterns of lights in our magical electronic windows. She'd curl up into a little ball on Lord Morkus' lap and purr loudly after making a quick, messy meal of crusty, humourless and irredeemably bitter Sauvin. To most of the rest of us, I think, she'd just hand out Valentine's Day candies and fresh, cold bottles of insulin.

The girl to the right is a reflection in the mirror of the girl to the left.

It's said that when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you. It's also said that you can never really see a true reflection of yourself until you see how other people seem to see you, that people are the mirror to reflect your heart or soul in the same way a physical mirror that simply bounces light lets you see what you look like on the surface. What happens if what you see in either mirror isn't nearly as ugly or repulsive as you've been led to believe?

Like another image or two I've done, this girl isn't Eli, Abby or Elysse (I was playing with more knobs and buttons with some random model). If Eli or Abby is the abyss into which we gaze, then all the different Elis and Abbys and fanfic knockoffs that've popped up in the fiction and art sections are the distorted and speckled reflections Eli would see in the abysses of our eyes - and, I fear, how she might see us if she could rise above her two-dimensional world of paper and ink or take physical form from the patterns of lights in our magical electronic windows. She'd curl up into a little ball on Lord Morkus' lap and purr loudly after making a quick, messy meal of crusty, humourless and irredeemably bitter Sauvin. To most of the rest of us, I think, she'd just hand out Valentine's Day candies and fresh, cold bottles of insulin.

More likely, she'd shake her head at the idealistic naiveté of Lord Morkus, put him in a birdcage in her den, and go out for a beer with Sauvin (After ditching the now-broken, alcoholic Oskar)

We never stop reading, although every book comes to an end, just as we never stop living, although death is certain. (Roberto Bolaño)